Spain had allied herself with France in 1796, and early in the following year matters looked most unpromising for England. The British fleet had been obliged to leave the Mediterranean. Bonaparte was gaining successes against Austria on land. The peace negotiations, which had been begun by France, had been peremptorily stopped, while the French expedition to Ireland obviously owed its failure to bad weather, and not in the least to any effective interference on the part of the British Navy. Altogether the horizon was dark, and every one in England was expecting to hear of crushing disaster dealt out by the combined fleets of France and Spain, and all lived in fear of invasion. Very different was the news that arrived in London early in March. Sir John Jervis, with Nelson and Collingwood, met the Spanish fleet off Cape St. Vincent on Valentine’s Day, and we all know the result. As Jervis said on the morning of the fight, “A victory was essential to England at this moment.” The confidence of the nation returned, and was not lost again through the hard struggle of the following years. An extract from the log of Lieutenant F. W. Austen, on board the frigate Seahorse, in the Hamoaze, October 6, 1797, reads as follows: “Came into harbour the San Josef, Salvador del Mundo, San Nicolai, and San Isidore, Spanish line-of-battle ships, captured by the fleet under Lord St. Vincent on the 14th February.”
After their defeat, the remainder of the Spanish fleet entered the port of Cadiz, and were for the next two years blockaded by Admiral Jervis, now Earl St. Vincent. In this blockade, Francis Austen took part, serving in the London.
During this time of comparative inaction, the fearful mutinies, described in a former chapter, seemed to be sapping the strength of the Navy. The greater number of the British ships were concentrated in the Channel under Lord Bridport, and were employed in watching the harbour of Brest, in order to prevent the French fleet from escaping, with what success we shall presently tell. Our flag was scarcely to be seen inside the Mediterranean except on a few sloops of war. Each side was waiting for some movement of aggression from the other. Now was Bonaparte’s chance to get to the East. His plans were quietly and secretly formed. An armament was prepared at Toulon almost unknown to the British, and at the same time all possible measures to avert suspicion were taken. The Spanish fleet in Cadiz formed up as if for departure, and so kept Lord St. Vincent on the watch, while Bonaparte himself stayed in Paris until the expedition was quite ready to start, in order to give the idea that the invasion of England was intended. Still it was not practicable to keep the preparations entirely secret for any length of time.
Early in April 1798 Nelson sailed from England, joined St. Vincent at Cadiz, and immediately went on into the Mediterranean, with three ships of the line, to reconnoitre. He was reinforced by nine more under Troubridge, and Lord St. Vincent had orders from home to follow with the entire squadron if it should prove necessary. Nelson searched for Bonaparte in the Mediterranean, and missed him twice. The French seized Malta for the sake of getting their supplies through, but the British as promptly blockaded it. At last, on August 1, Nelson came upon the French fleet anchored in Aboukir Bay, and the Battle of the Nile was fought. The situation now created can be briefly summarised. Bonaparte was in Egypt, cut off from all communication with France, and however determinedly he might turn his face towards Africa or Asia his position was a serious one. Turkey almost immediately declared war against France. Malta was still closely blockaded by the British. Nelson had established himself at Palermo, on friendly terms with the King of Naples, who had taken refuge in Sicily. The news of the Battle of the Nile had spread far and wide, and France had good reason to fear that the tide had turned against her.
Early in 1799 Bonaparte attacked Acre, and Sir Sydney Smith was sent to harass his forces, and to compel him, if possible, to raise the siege.
At this time occurred one of those events which show how a slight advantage, properly used, may decide the final issue. Matters were in this critical state; every British ship in and near the Mediterranean was employed at some important work, when that happened which might have been the cause of serious disaster. Admiral Bruix got away from Brest with a fleet of twenty-five sail of the line and ten smaller ships.
The blame of this mishap is not at all easy to attach. Lord Bridport was still in command of the Channel Fleet, but the Admiralty seemed to prefer to keep him in touch with headquarters off the coast of Kent, rather than to allow him to maintain a position whence he could more easily keep watch on the French fleet. Now ensued an exciting time. No one knew where the French fleet was, much less whither it was bound. They had escaped in a thick fog, being seen only by La Nymphe, one of the British frigates, whose officers, owing to the density of the fog, imagined that they saw the fleet bring to under the land, and signalled accordingly to Lord Bridport. When the fog lifted the French fleet was no longer in sight.
Of course the first idea was that they had gone to Ireland, and off went Lord Bridport to pursue them. A little later news was received that they had sailed southward, and a correspondent at this time writes: “Lord St. Vincent will have a fine field to exert his talents if the French fleet join the Spanish, after capturing Lisbon.”
On the morning of May 5, from the Rock of Gibraltar, Lord St. Vincent saw, with the deepest anxiety, the French fleet running before a westerly gale into the Mediterranean. His most immediate fear was lest Bruix should be on his way to help Bonaparte at Acre, and to overwhelm Sydney Smith’s squadron. If so, the question was how to stop him. Lord Bridport’s fleet was useless, as it was not until nearly four weeks later that he was able to send help. Lord Keith was blockading Cadiz. If he left, the whole Spanish fleet would be released and at liberty to attack where they would. Nelson was at Palermo with only one British line-of-battle ship, and great would be the consternation in the town if that one ship were to be withdrawn. A small squadron was blockading Malta, and a few ships were at Minorca under Commodore Duckworth, but Port Mahon was not yet fully garrisoned. Troubridge was outside Naples. Bruix might attack any of these divisions with the full force of his fleet, or he might proceed straight to Egypt. St. Vincent had to determine which of these positions should be abandoned in order to meet the French fleet. He decided on ordering Keith into the Mediterranean so as to concentrate the available forces, sending word as far as possible to the outlying squadrons.
To Nelson at Palermo he wrote that he expected the enemy to proceed to Malta and Alexandria. This despatch was entrusted to the Hyena, which fell in with the Peterel, now under the command of Francis Austen. The Peterel was already on the way to Nelson with a despatch from Minorca, and, being a fast-sailing sloop, the captain of the Hyena at once handed on the important paper to be delivered by Captain Austen.